Meaningless Wanton
by littletrowa
Summary: It's hot. Bart's hot. Sigurd's hot, and Bart's tired of being room-bound and wants to cool off his half-brother. *Really* cool him off. When the pressure and the heat is rising, this blonde pirate won't take no for an answer!


**Meaningless Wanton**  
a Xenogears PWP  
by _LTS & Neko_  
  
**Warnings:** yaoi, angst, BartxSigurd, one-shot  
**Notes:** was *dying* to fondle Sigurd. So strange, seeing how I used to get so annoyed at *all* the sigurdxbart out there and the little billyxbart. don't get me wrong, still adore bxb, but I could really see Bart lusting after big-half-brother, y'know?   
  
Sigurd walked down the hallway towards the sleeping quarters of the ship, fanning himself with some papers. More work to do, less time to do it in. And it was hot. Damned hot. Almost hot enough to make him contradict his not liking shorts.**  
  
**Bart was groaning. As usual. He couldn't concentrate worth a shit. Homework, and more homework. Would it EVER end? He had already tried working on it slow, or pretending to be clueless. Thought maybe Citan and Sig would just give up and let him go on being princely without the damn credentials. So much for that. He wiped a bit of sweat from his brow and reshifted his patch, leaning over his desk.   
  
"CITAAAAANNN!" he called out the door, kicking his heel into his desk. "It's tooooo damn hot! Can I have at least a fifteen minute break!?" The muffled answer from the other side of the Desert Prince's room was enough for him and BOOM-- he rushed from the room, out the hallway and ready to charge down the stairs to the parlor when he ran smack dab into half-brother Sigurd, who was sweating from head-to-toe. "Ahhhh! Gomen ne!" he tried to jump back but it was a bit too late and both he and the older man were squashed into the wall.**  
  
**Sigurd blinked down at him, eye wide. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be working..." He scowled slightly, pushing Bart back. "Back to your room."**  
  
**Bart looked a bit shocked. Citan had been pushing Sigurd so much lately. He reached his hand out to grab at Sigurd's arm, but found his hand back at his side. "Oi! Sigurd-sama, come on now! I can't work non-stop all day ya know! I gotta get a break once in a while! An' what about you, huh? You should take it easy too-- it's too hot for paperwork and book work!"**  
  
**"It isn't all *that* hot. And you HAVE to work all day until it's done. You're too lazy. You're supposed to be a Prince." He scowled. But he knew being a pirate and having fun was Bart's life. Being Prince was just... less than tasteful for the blonde.**  
  
**Bart scowled back at his older half-brother. _Dammit!_ He wanted to say. _You don't know WHAT it's like being trapped in this palace, listening to lectures... I'm still a fucking kid, this isn't what I WANT! I want fun... I want taverns and shops... and the open sand air to my face.... I hate this....   
  
_But he just bit his lip, scowling at the older man, pathetically. "Citan said I could have a break, so just knock it off... I'm... I'm taking the break, and you can't get me back to that "work" even if you tied me down...!" Sometimes Bart adored the older man, but more than often, he made him want to break down and kill someone. _What's worse... what's worse is you always brush me off. What happened to the day when we'd play together... side by side?_**  
  
**Sigurd was staring at him, openly for once. It surprised him whenever Bart spoke out against him like that. "Fine. Take your break then. But when things don't get done, it'll be your fault. All your responsibility." He turned on his heel and all but stalked out, frustrated with his brother's pissyness and lack of responsibility**  
  
**"Maybe I don't want the /_goddamned/ _responsibility, huh? I'm... I'm tired of doing this day in, day out... I..." Bart couldn't face his brother like this, not with all the pent up rage inside his body. He shivered and felt foolish everytime his brother stared him down like that. _He just thinks I'm a fucking kid. A fucking worthless kid.... Can't stand it!_ When Bart looked back up, his face flushed with embarrassment and anger, he realized Sigurd was gone. "Damn... I guess my babbling pissed him off... I... Oi..." he ran a hand over the back of his neck, feeling the sweat curl up with his hair.   
  
_S'never good enough for them. Not for him especially. He expects too much from me. Like I'm Billy or something. He probably looks up to that little brat more than me anyhow. S'not my fault I have no brains! How can I excell in somethin' I don't care nothin' about?!_ Bart shed the layer of his black and red vest and stalked after his brother, hoping to apologize for his harsh tongue, but then again-- apologizes never came easy for the youth. The heat was draining him, and even his black sleevless clung to his skin like wax.**  
  
**The older brother was now in his room sitting on his bed. A book was in his lap and he was trying to read it. But his eye wouldn't focus on the words. He was too angry with Bart. The brat knew he had a job to do, but just didn't care. Why should he get to have a childhood when Sigurd himself had been book-bound or training? That brought a twinge of jealousy that the silver-haired man had never felt before. The reason he pushed Bart so hard to succeed was because he himself had never had the opportunity. And he didn't like seeing someone with potential waste it.  
  
Bart, in the meantime, swirled his tongue against the roof of his mouth. So damn dry. He nearly panted as he walked swiftly towards Sigurd's room. He passed a dark meeting room, glancing in to see an icebox in the corner. The secluded room was a heat wave when he opened the door and somehow managed to find two saucers and a cold drink to pour in with ice. A treat for Sigurd. At least if he couldn't say sorry-- he could try this way.   
  
He snuck from the heat cramped room and sped down the hall, knocking a toe on Sigurd's door, only to have it creak open slightly and the younger blonde caught glance of him sprawled out on the bed. Sigurd's midriff arched gently against his tanned skin. Bart could see beads of sweat against the older man's body, each muscle's curve radiantly shining against the light. Bart felt his mouth slide open, and he had to swallow a few times to catch his breath**  
  
**_Aaah... God why does the heat have to get to me like this!?  
  
_If Sigurd even noticed Bart, he didn't make it apparent. He was lost in thoughts of his own. Thoughts of Bart running outside when he was little while Sigurd had to sit in a classroom and learn laws, physics, and rules. Rules that he'd bound himself to with chains too thick to be broken. Laws that he in turn had to teach Bart. But he didn't mind, in all reality, because the kid had to grow up alone, parentless, as it was now. He had no other teachers but he and Citan. His childish days were over, when they allowed him to roam free, hoping if they kept quiet about his blood lineage that he wouldn't have to swallow it all as such a young child.   
  
He was older now, Sigurd knew. And play time was over as well. _If he doesn't grow up now, when will he ever?_**  
  
**Bart's face was by now flushed when he set down the two saucers on a stand near Sigurd's bed. "Sigurd-sama?" He perked, hoping for the older man to look up. He felt shaky suddenly. He and Sigurd had become so distant since Bart had been brought back to play role as Prince; nearly King. Sometimes it felt so awkward around him, especially from the feelings welling up in Bart's throat. "Eh, brought ya somethin' to cool you off from the heat."**  
  
**"I thought you were taking a break." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Said with more ice and spikes than humanly possible. He hated Bart. With a passion. But at the same time loved him dearly and wanted to protect him and just... But they were brothers. That was it. And that's all it would ever be.**  
  
**Bart felt his legs grow shaky below him. This wasn't like him. He was always such a sturdy man.   
  
"D-demo. I brought you something to drink. S'not like I can't spend my break with you... ne?" He leaned against the wall, opposite Sigurd's bed, bringing the liquid to his lips, tasting it. It was then that he realized it was a form of alcohol. One he had tasted several times before. It burned going down, it had been a while. He stomached it and stared back at his brother, trying to swallow down the rage that had somehow demoted to a thick hurt.**  
  
**But the silver-haired one could smell the alcohol. Shaking his head, he closed the book and looked at Bart. "I don't want to drink that stuff on an empty stomach. It impairs my judgment and I at least want to be able to do my work."**  
  
**Bart growled. "Stop working so much.... just relax for once... it won't kill ya..." He reached over casually and grabbed the saucer, handing it to Sigurd. "Please?" he said a little softer, hoping, pleading that Sigurd would give in. In fact, he actually would like it if the older man's judgment was a bit off. He felt it was impossible to be around him anymore. _He's like my teacher... rather than my big bro, anymore._**  
  
**"...Fine." He sat up and took it, taking a breath before taking a huge gulp. It burned all the way down and made his stomach protest, but he kept it down. "There, happy?" within a few minutes he was lightheaded, and a bit looser. He wasn't thinking about Bart as much. At least, not the negative side. What he simply was now, was his brother sitting there and looking gorgeously sweaty.**  
  
**"N-no. I'm not happy," Bart remarked, his face flushed as he watched Sigurd's physcial changes within a few minutes. But he was still regretting the harsh words from the hallway, and he stared at his feet, tearing his eyes from the beautiful man in front of him. "I don't know why you have to always be so cold with me..." It was the most he could say without loosing gut. This *was* his brother, but anymore it felt like a stranger in his presence. A stranger he had a crush on...   
  
_Matte... that's not it... not it at all!_**  
  
**"As much as I love you, and hate to see you unhappy, you can't be a kid forever Bart. And you know that." He stopped, then finished what was left of his drink. "I don't want to lecture you..."   
  
It was no secret that Sigurd had wanted his brother. Even when they were young, he'd make Bart play the mother during 'make believe' so that he would kiss him.**  
  
**_Heh.... with all the thoughts in my head, big-bro... you'd never call me a kid..._ Bart looked away, his cheeks rosy and he felt foolish, embarrassed for such thoughts. _Or would you just call me a dirty kid, then?_  
  
It wasn't as though Bart stomached his memories with Sigurd, from the days when he was his companion. Bart vaguely remember kissing Sigurd's sleeping face on the lips. He was happy then. He'd spend nights curled up with Sigurd's warm body, claiming he couldn't sleep because he'd think about his dead folks. But truth be as it may; he couldn't really remember them, he just wanted Sigurd close...**  
  
**"Doesn't matter..." Bart chuckled, trying to be easy-going again. He sat on the edge of Sigurd's bed, running a fingerless-gloved hand at the seams of his pants. "Yer the older one. Yer supposed to lecture. 'Sides, I'm used to it."**  
  
**"I'm tired of just being the older brother, Bart." He looked down at his empty glass, blinking a moment and gathering his thoughts. "I always wanted to be much more. To be what you never had. Because I didn't want anyone taking you away from me...." He stopped and sighed. "Nevermind...."**  
  
**Bart was a bit surprised. He would have thought about those words more, if it weren't for the alcohol. He downed the rest of the saucer and let it fall to the floor as he shifted position on the bed, grabbing Sigurd's arm and pushing him a bit hard, into the wall, against the bed. He slid closer, gazing deep into his blue eye. "Maybe you should let *me* be the big brother then..."**  
  
**Sigurd was caught totally off guard, blinking a few times. "I...." He coughed, realizing a bit too late what Bart meant and blushing hard enough to have it actually show. "You're my brother..... We can't do that....."**  
  
**Bart lifted a hand gently, to brush a silver strand from Sigurd's face. "What are you talking about? We're barely related.... besides...." he felt his face grow hot, either from the alcohol or what he was about to say. "I'm not gonna let you be the one in charge all the time..." He shifted on his knees, until he was nearly straddling the sprawled out man. His chest ached for something... something he had wanted so long from the lanky stranger. His face, his body... so delicious.   
  
Sigurd couldn't believe his eyes! Bart's weight was tight against his legs. He felt himself subconsiously press up against the wall. He shivered as Bart's fingers grazed through his hair. What- what are you doing, Bart?  
  
Bart's eye seemed a bit blurry as he leaned forward, dazzed from the rush of alcohol in his system and fighting the urge to back down. But his brother was so damned gorgeous and he couldn't leave now, not with the hot welling coarsing between his legs. What I should have done long ago... when you were awake, he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.   
  
A slender hand pressed against Sigurd's chest and Sigurd arched away, nervous and delighted at the same time.  
  
to be continued... (ah yes, i'm awful aren't i? stay tuned and such-- I *will* continue it. i could continue it myself, but i'm gonna wait for my other author, cause i'm truely evil.)


End file.
